


le rappel

by HopeStoryteller



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, I bring back the one character Overwatch didn't on its own, I found this in my drive like two years after I wrote it, Major Character Undeath, and figured why not, here ya go, in case it wasn't obvious enough, this is complete enough on its own ig???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26133577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeStoryteller/pseuds/HopeStoryteller
Summary: Gibraltar is quiet, as it should be. Yet someone entirely unexpected approaches, someone who didn't--or shouldn't have--gotten the Recall. After all, he's supposed to be dead...
Kudos: 4





	le rappel

Gibraltar is quiet, as it should be at ungodly hours of the morning. It’s a tourist trap, true—but he supposes it does have a certain charm to it, even so. Especially at the aforementioned ungodly hours of the morning, when there are no roving bands of tourists blissfully unaware of how remarkably little their actions matter in the long run.

Well, alright. Perhaps he should give them  _ some _ credit. But not much.

_ N’importe comment. _ He did not come here to spend time admiring the view, or complaining about tourists. In fact, he could go so far as to argue that the sizable amount of tourism in the area now that Overwatch has been disbanded makes it vastly easier to pass unnoticed.

He won’t go so far. But he could.

Light on his feet, he slips through a tear in the fence and stands. He glances up, almost casually. Tugs the bandanna covering his face up a little with his good arm, tugs the brim of his black fedora down a few moments later. He never was, officially, a field agent—but he’s picked up a few tricks in his time. He’s had to.

The one in question here would be subtly looking for cameras, while not making it look like he’s looking for cameras. There are  _ definitely _ cameras here, trained on him which means they’re quite operational. Their placement now is the same as it was the last time he was here, which means if he hadn’t already been seen, he certainly could avoid them. As it is, he doesn’t, because being seen is exactly what he wants now.

An unlocked door isn’t too hard to find, although he’s holding his bad arm and trying not to wince by the time he’s forced it open. Watchpoint: Gibraltar was always smaller than Geneva, but he’s spent his fair share of time here. He’d have some idea of where to go, if of course he had any idea where Winston would be.

He sighs to himself, shakes his head wistfully. Control room, maybe? If nothing else, it’s a good place to start. As he walks, he finds himself wondering, not for the first time and certainly not for the last—is this really a good idea? Is this  _ really _ something he wants to be doing?

Wants to be, certainly not. But while he highly doubts Winston will expect him of all people to accept the call… he should certainly be here. Although, it’s possible this is just a diversion by Talon, to draw any remaining members out.

If it comes to that… he’s been in hiding long enough, and he might as well give them a nasty surprise before they go. So, with that in mind, he pushes open the door to the main control room—

—and suddenly finds himself face-to-face with a very big, very lethal-looking gun. Some kind of energy weapon, but he doesn’t get a very good look at it while he’s scrambling backwards and swearing under his breath.

“Who are you,” the gun’s bearer growls, “and what are you doing here. Did they send you back to finish the job?”

It’s Winston. It’s unmistakably Winston, although admittedly it would be hard to mistake a talking gorilla for anything but that. And even with something that could doubtless fry him on the spot pointed at him, he finds himself relieved.

“Talon? No,” he replies. “If they had sent me, we both would have much bigger problems.”

Winston lowers his gun, slightly. Even so, it’s still aimed squarely at his chest.

“You sound familiar. Take off the hat.”

“As you wish.” He does so with a flourish, pulls down the bandanna for good measure, and meets the gaze of someone he’d quite honestly not expected to ever see again. Not in person at least. From the shock in Winston’s eyes, he would hazard a guess that Winston had thought much the same.

To be fair, he  _ is _ supposed to be dead.

_ “Gérard?” _

**Author's Note:**

> listen I've been out of the Overwatch fandom since a little after they gave Mercy her new ultimate but I've had this floating around my drive for a while and I figured. why not. let's bring back the last guy who hasn't turned up at some point. (unless he has. I'd bet money that he will at some point simply because EVERYONE ELSE HAS but I think I would have heard something about it through Twitter or something if he had already.)
> 
> I offer nothing else except that if any of y'all wind up wanting to continue this link it back and let me know because I'm always a slut for character undeath even if it's for a fandom I've been out of for ages.


End file.
